People Might Talk
by MarchingPotterofStorybrooke
Summary: "I'm glad no one saw that," John said, chuckling. "Hmm?" "You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk," he breathed out with another laugh. "People do little else," Sherlock replied. Just a collection of Sherlock drabbles. Mostly Johnlock, but more ships to come :) More is explained inside. T for language :P
1. People Might Talk

**Just a small set of Sherlock ****drabbles, written while watching the episodes they center around. Just things I noticed in the moment and stuff. It's all Johnlock atm, and I've only written for TGG through the Fall, but that by no means implies I won't do more eventually, i'd really appreciate any feedback as this goes along, I haven't written fanfics in ages and my writing style has changed considerably. Hope you enjoy!**

Sherlock's heart had just stopped, he was sure of it.

He certainly wasn't breathing, how silly John would tell him that was, if this were any other situation. But John was currently encased in explosives, and Sherlock was just barely managing his unexpected _fear. _He was absolutely _terrified. _Sherlock had never felt like this before, not the tightened vocal chords, not the tremor coursing through him that he was barely keeping under control… he'd never felt like this before. And so his smarter, less human side went to work on autopilot, while every human facet of him focused entirely on John and John alone, calculating every possible way out of this, even if it meant just getting John out alive, Sherlock didn't matter in this equation. His best friend…

Sherlock didn't say it, and wouldn't say it, but it was more than a simple attachment to John, more than a mere usefulness, that made Sherlock keep him close. He was another Mrs. Hudson, but even closer, on some levels; Sherlock would do very little for other people unless it had great purpose, but Sherlock would go to the ends of the earth and do anything for John Watson. There was no doubting it.

But just like that, before the human side could catch up and relax, it was over. The machine had defused the situation (quite literally). Finally.

Sherlock ran to his friend and tried to hide the fact that his hands were trembling as he unzipped the coat and tossed it aside, as far away from John as possible. He was grasping him, patting down his jumper, and while he registered that John was responding to something he was probably asking, he couldn't for the life of him tell what he was saying, or John's reply. He saw John find purchase against the nearest change cubicle as he reached for something to steady himself against, and glancing once more that he was alright, ran out the door to look for any sign of Moriarty. Seeing none, he dashed back inside, pacing frantically back and forth.

"I'm glad no one saw that," John said, chuckling.

"Hmm?"

"You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk," he breathed out with another laugh.

"People do little else," Sherlock replied. His first coherent words with John, and it was to joke over stripping a bomb off of him. Goodness, the lives they lead…

Trouble would return that night, and the machine would take over once again, and once more, Moriarty would disappear, not to return for quite some time… but 'quite some time' can't mean forever, now, can it?

**Idk about this one, but I hope it was okay :P I'll post the next one ASAP, but I gotta go to bed- huuuge migraine right now :P Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! :D**


	2. A Man of Simple Tastes

**I said I was going to bed but I couldn't resist, this one was super short and i felt bad posting it on its own tomorrow so I'm lumping it in and mushing it with the other one... so here's a bonus drabble that's ****probably**** barely longer than this horrendously lengthy author's note! XD **

John Watson was a man with simple tastes when it came to most things. That meant to see him in a full suit was a rare and precious sight. So when the time came to go to court for Moriarty's hearing, Sherlock watched John intently as he pieced together the top half of his suit in front of the living room mirror. His eyes skimmed over John's movements. Even those were unembellished, to the point. Such the opposite of Sherlock's personality, which danced circles around people before reaching the final matter. He envied John for his simplicity, as much as John took it as an insult. John was a man to be admired for his minimalism, not taunted for it, as Sherlock liked to pretend.

**As always, let me know what you think. I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO DRABBLE OKAY SO I REALLY NEED HELP**


	3. The Look

**Hello lovelies! Drabble #3 is here, super duper short but I hope you enjoy, I'll post another in a minute to make up for how short this one is XP **

Sherlock Holmes was a rather proud man for a great many reasons, but reasons involving John Watson had him internally preening like a peacock (not that either man knew it, of course). This time, it was for John's careful observation of the little things, things so little that only a best friend, someone who cared, who was- dare he say it- _sentimental, _would notice. In this case, it was "the look."

"The look?"

"You're doing the look again."

"Well I can't exactly see it, can I?" John gestured at the mirror next to them.

"That's my face…?"

"Yes, and it's doing a thing you do when you're doing your 'we both know what's really going on here face.'"

"Well we do-"

"No, I don't, which is what makes the _face _so annoying." Sherlock continued to explain what it was he thought John had grasped same as him, but his thoughts in reality lingered on John's comment. So nonchalant, but comments like that could only come from a John Watson to a Sherlock. And that made the younger Holmes brother very pleased indeed.

**Hope that was alright! Any feedback is seriously appreciated, I'd really love to know what you think, good, bad, or otherwise! Have a lovely day! :) **


	4. No Defense Against Guilt

**Here you go! **

"They found him not guilty. No defense, and Moriarty walks free." Sherlock is quiet, contemplative, but unhurried. "Sherlock, are you listening? He's out there, he'll be coming after you-" Sherlock hung up. He felt a tiny tinge of guilt, a foreign feeling before meeting John Watson. Plenty of people had tried to make him feel guilty on a number of occasions, but that wasn't real. John Watson brought out the human side without ever trying, and that human side was aching for hanging up on his anxious friend. He had been the one with a bomb jacket zipped around him, and yet he was only worried for _Sherlock's _safety. After preparing for Moriarty's inevitable arrival, he picked up his violin, and played John's favorite tune, as he was on his mind.

***sigh* Sherlock... anyhow, let me know what you think! I'll try to post again tomorrow, but if I don't get to it till Thursday, please don't hate me, I have a busy couple of days coming up :P**


	5. John In Love

**Hello everyone! Hope you're having a lovely day! Here's another one :) **

John Watson loved Sherlock Holmes…'s bedroom. (A/N: ;D) Because it was _so Sherlock. _Outside in the flat, all of the paraphernalia of a working genius littered the rooms, but in Sherlock's room, the only thing decorating it was a hanging poster of the Periodic Table, given to him by Mycroft as a Christmas present when he was five. The fact that Sherlock had kept it all these years (and had shared that fact with John) was reason enough to love it, but there was also a sort of double entendre to the juxtaposition of decor. On the outside, there was this bustling, busybody appearance that could dance circles around everyone and anyone and blow your mind before you took two steps into the room. But once you move beyond that, and into the personal boundaries, you see the _real _Sherlock, not the semi-facade, the part that is simple in taste and just a bit sentimental towards those who matter most to him in the world, and a bit of an adorable geek.

Well, not that John Watson, who is NOT GAY, would admit that Sherlock is _adorable, _or anything like that… (A/N: ;D)

**Haha sorry if that first line was misleading ;D Hope you enjoyed, and as always, a review means the world, no matter if it's a good or bad one :) Thanks so much, and have a great day! **


	6. Rocky Road and Carbon Tetrafluoride

**Hi everyone! Sorry I haven't been at this in a while, got lots of different pieces going at once. Idk if this one counts as a drabble since it's a made up scenario? Still not quite sure if drabbles are only points made about what happens canonically or not. If this doesn't count as a drabble, let me know and I'll just stick it separately as a random ind. thing. **

**This drabble is just a really random, write-as-I-go text conversation between Sherlock and John. Sorry if it's too OOC :P I hope to post again here soon :) Enjoy! **

_SH: Bring home ice cream. And a refill for my carbon tetrafluoride. _

JW: Why should I?

_SH: Because I'm on the verge of a breakthrough._

JW: In ice cream?

_SH: Don't be smart with me. Rocky Road please. _

JW: Ooh, a please. Alright then, and where am I supposed to find your CFx4?

_SH: Nick it from Bart's. I do it all the time, Molly doesn't mind. Or notice. Either way._

JW: You're going to be the death of me, Sherlock.

_SH: No dying before you bring me Rocky Road._

JW: Alright, I'm at Bart's. Where?

_SH: Do you have the ice cream?_

JW: For god's sake of course I have the bloody ice cream. Now where?

_SH: Touchy touchy. Under the third sink on the left side. Pressurized canister. White label. _

JW: Got it. Grabbing a cab now, be home in a bit.

_SH: Don't shoot this one, please._

JW: If you insist.


End file.
